


French Fry

by AlexxAplin, ConeyIslandBlitz



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: 4th wall breaks, Alternate Universe - The French Mistake (Supernatural) Fusion, Dimension Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Hale ships Queliot bc ofc he does, M/M, RPF, References to Supernatural (TV), not subtle shade thrown at the showrunners, there's smut in the epilogue, this was meant to be a crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 19:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexxAplin/pseuds/AlexxAplin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConeyIslandBlitz/pseuds/ConeyIslandBlitz
Summary: In which Quentin finds his own way home, and realises just how important he is, in a very roundabout way.





	1. French Fry

**Author's Note:**

> Guuuyyyssss - I've had a straight up meltdown over whether to publish this or not bc of the RPF elements in it so if you're not into that, then please click away. If you're interested in the dimension jump aspect of it though, please read on. Big thanks to Alexx for helping me tackle this, it was great fun. The epilogue is where the gratuitous smut be at, bc this is me and Alexx we're talking about. Have fun!

Penny took Quentin to what looked like an eerily empty and grey metro station. Penny reached into his pocket, and handed something over to Quentin, who took it almost reluctantly. After seeing his own funeral, he realised he wasn’t ready to move on. He wanted to find his way back to them somehow; he didn’t care what it took, he would make it back to them. To Eliot.

“This is your MetroCard, Q. It’ll take you to where you need to go next,” Penny explained. Quentin was speechless. He felt a flicker of hope that he wouldn’t just be taken to the afterlife, but he knew he needed to remain realistic. He did the only thing he knew how to do at that moment, and that was to pull Penny in for a hug. He whispered, “thank you,” though it was barely audible.

“Have a safe trip,” Penny said after pulling away, and he backed away from Quentin, who edged closer to the doors that seemed to be drawing him in.

 The doors were simultaneously inviting and foreboding. It screamed, ‘there is no going back’, while at the same time giving the feeling of ‘this is what comes next’. When the doors opened, and the Metro awaited, a slim man, (whom Quentin guessed was Charon the Ferryman) held out his hand.

“Quentin Makepeace Coldwater. Your MetroCard, please,” was what the inhumanly deep voice said.

Quentin nervously handed it over, and took a seat next to a window nearby the sliding doors of the Metro. He swore he could feel a panic attack approaching, as the Metro doors slid shut and he felt movement. He took deep breaths and tried to calm his mind. _‘This is it, Quentin. No going back now. You got this, whatever it is,’_ he repeated to himself in his head multiple times. He continued to chant this mantra in his head non-stop until he felt the Metro grind to a halt.

“Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, we have reached your destination,” the inhumanly deep voice spoke again. Quentin realised it belonged to the Grim Reaper-looking dude who he assumed was Charon the Ferryman, the guy he handed his MetroCard to. He rose from his seat, and made to exit the same way as he’d entered. He muttered a small, “thank you,” because it never hurts to be polite, even in the Underworld. The doors opened, and he was met by bright lights.

When Quentin resurfaced, he was in a surprisingly loud and surprisingly chilly area. If the landmarks were anything to go by, he’d guessed he’d landed in Vancouver. His dad had brought him here once, though, not to this specific space. However, something told him he needed to enter the building in front of him. He wasn’t sure what this sensation was; it can’t have been déjà vu, but it felt more like… intuition? For once, he told his brain to shut the fuck up and he followed his gut. He opened the door right in front of him, and he was completely mind-blown by the things he saw. It looked like… a film set? Was he supposed to be here? What are they filming? He walked past a few cameramen and practically made a beeline for what appeared to be Kady’s apartment.

 _Wait-_  
 _What?!_  
 _What the fuck is going on?!_  
  
He had to find a familiar face, and fast.

A man who looked identical to Eliot, one Hale Appleman, was waiting on set. When he saw Quentin – thinking he was Jason Ralph – his eyes lit up.

“Oh! Hey Big Stuff! We weren’t expecting you back until next week!” He found himself hugging ‘Jason’ tightly, though he noticed ‘Jason’ smelled a little different, perhaps a tiny bit burnt. While Hale was holding ‘Jason’, he could feel his body almost quake, like he was letting go of a barrel of emotion he didn’t realise he’d been holding in. Hale stroked his back, albeit a little confused, and he said softly to him, “Hey, its okay. I missed you too. None of this is your fault,” and he instinctively kissed the top of ‘Jason’s head. Quentin looked up at him with nothing but love in his eyes, and before he could stop himself, he made to pull Hale in for a kiss. Hale backed away a little too late; their lips had already met. Hale began to get a little worried and stuttered, “Jason- wait-” This earned him a bewildered look from Quentin, who asked, “Who’s Jason?”

Hale paused for a moment; things were starting to click into place. He’d always joked about the multiverse theory, and being a Wiccan… he supposed other realms weren’t out of the realm of possibility. He then tried to channel Eliot as best he could, because now, he gets the feeling that this isn’t Jason after all.

“My dear, it seems that you…” he began, placing a hand on Quentin’s shoulder, “have landed in an alternate dimension, in which the world you know to be real, is a television show,” he explained, “George RR Martin couldn’t even make this shit up,” he added. “As for Jason… he’s the actor who plays... uh, your part, in all of this. You look exactly like him,” he finished, a wistful look in his eyes. Quentin was beginning to understand what Hale was saying.

“So you’re not Eliot, you… play him, in this show? What’s your name then?” Quentin asked, wanting to make sure he could wrap his head around it all.

“I’m Hale. There’s no point us shaking hands, because we’ve already kissed,” Hale joked, making Quentin blush with embarrassment.

“Oh God- I’m- so sorry about that, I really thought you were El-” Quentin apologised, covering his face with his hands, and Hale waved it off, like ‘ _its fine, no worries_ ’, but Quentin had more questions. “Uh- so- uh- alternate dimension, you said, right? Well, if alternate timelines are a thing, then why the hell can’t alternate dimensions, right?” he asked, barely suppressing a nervous laugh.

“Doesn’t sound that crazy after all, does it? So- uhm, how did you get here in the first place? Didn’t you die? Last any of us saw, you were in the Underworld and you were about to get on the Metro,” Hale began.

“Yeah, and I handed my MetroCard to this Grim Reaper-looking dude and it took me here. It’s supposed to take you-”  
  
“Where you need to go next, that's true… But then, there’s gotta be a way for you to get back to your own dimension, where you’re a real person... and not a fictional character whose death the fandom fucking _raged_ over, and with good reason might I add. You and I were robbed, Q. We were gonna be the love story of a generation,” Hale drifted off, putting a hand around Quentin’s shoulder and dramatically waving a hand as he said that last bit. The proverbial light bulb flashed on in Hale’s head and he not so gently placed a hand on Quentin’s chest. “I might have just the thing that’ll help. Come with me,” Hale said excitedly as he dragged Quentin off set, making a beeline for his trailer.

Quentin’s head was practically spinning as he followed Hale; trying to figure out how he had managed to get here, why the Metro thought he _needed_ to be here. Was that a way of saying he wasn’t supposed to be dead? Was he supposed to find his people again? Or was he supposed to learn something from this really strange world? He still felt magic, but not in the way he always had. It was… different, like molasses rather than cool water in his veins. It was sluggish, but he could still feel it. He wondered if he could cast…

Quentin figured he’d give it a try once he’d found a more private place. It seemed to take forever for the two of them to find Hale’s trailer, but when they did, Quentin let out a big sigh of relief. Now, the real brainstorming could begin. Quentin felt Hale push him into the trailer, following swiftly behind him before he slammed the door closed.

“Right... I’m sorry about the rush just now; I figured you didn’t want too many people asking you questions thinking you’re Jason. I mean- if I were Eliot in this dimension, I know I fucking wouldn’t,” Hale explained, feeling a strange need to justify himself. Quentin just nodded, still somewhat confused and overwhelmed. _‘We were gonna be the love story of a generation,’_ those words wouldn’t get out of Quentin’s head. Quentin let out a hollow laugh; he still couldn't believe all of this.  
  
“Honestly I’m just- uh- thank you, I think- I just needed a space to- to process all of this. It’s… a lot… but I feel- I can feel magic here. Actual, real magic. And that means- if I can feel magic, then I think we can actually get me back to my own dimension,” Quentin said, suddenly feeling optimistic. Eliot- er, Hale, was looking at him, and he seemed to understand Quentin’s way of processing, so he nodded for Quentin to continue, “I’m just- why would the Metro send me _here_ , though? Was I not meant to die after all?” A look of horror hit his face, before he looked to Hale, “You said my life was a story in this world, right? D-Did I…” he frowned, scrunching his face in concentration, “Did I commit suicide? I mean… I was in a pitch-black headspace, and I… I thought it was the only way to save everyone…” he sat down, feeling like he'd been hit with an axe at the realisation of how bad he'd gotten prior to his death.

Hale watched him process, unsure how to proceed in his answer. Should he be brutally honest? Should he sugar coat the situation? He decided to go for a middle ground.  
  
“Well… you and your friends, they always found another way and uh… I think I understand Eliot well enough to say that he- he wouldn’t want this. For you,” he explained, “I can imagine that in your world, right now he’ll be storming the gates of the Underworld to figure out how to get you back.”

Quentin nodded, trying to fight back tears because he missed Eliot so much. Hale could see the emotions displayed on Quentin’s face, and he pulled Quentin in for a hug, before saying, “What I can tell you for sure is that he misses you too, like you wouldn’t believe. None of your friends would give up on you, especially not him. Not after you’ve fought so hard for all of them in the past. Not after you’ve fought so hard to free Eliot of that Monster. They know damn well that they owe you this much at least,” Hale explained, trying not to cry himself.

Quentin curled his fingers into Hale’s shirt for a moment, just taking a few minutes to enjoy the hug and calm himself down. “They’re gonna be so fucking pissed at me…” Quentin commented with a watery chuckle.  
  
“Maybe, but… I’ll be honest. When I read the script- uh, when I found out how things were gonna play out for you and Eliot, I was fucking fuming,” Hale admitted nonchalantly, “You two deserve the chance to reunite, to love each other, and have whatever ending is meant to happen from here,” he put his hands on Quentin’s shoulders and looked at him sternly, “because no matter what those voices in your head say, you are a _good person_ , Q. You deserve to love and be loved unreservedly, and Eliot… For all his flaws, and his fears, and his insecurities… you gotta know that in his eyes, you’re _everything_.”

Quentin wasn’t sure what to say to that, but he could definitely feel his heart skip a beat. After a minute he took a deep breath and said, “Thank you… so, that means we should- we should really get on this. Work the problem, find a solution, and… get me home. ” He looked into Hale’s eyes with wonder; this man, who he technically knew nothing about, was so willing to help him, he couldn’t help but wonder why. On the other hand, if it weren’t for Hale being so willing to help him, he’d have been incredibly screwed. There were no words to do justice the gratitude he was feeling for Hale in this moment.

“Of course. So, about that – I’m certain I have just the thing. You’re a Magician, correct? You said you could feel magic in this dimension?” Hale asked, going in search of a specific collection of literature he never shared with anybody else.

“Uh, yeah, but it doesn’t flow as easily here as it does in my dimension. I’m sure with enough practice I can channel the magic well enough to cast- Hale! Are those- are those _grimoires?!_ ” Quentin interrupted himself to ask in awe and fascination.

“Yep. Practising Wiccan,” Hale explained simply with a blush and a hand to his chest before passing a book over to Quentin, “Let’s read up on dimension jumps, shall we?” Quentin took the book from Hale’s hand, thinking to himself, _‘God, you’re so Eliot,’_ and feeling a sudden wave of love at the reminder.

Quentin sat on Hale’s couch, starting to thumb through the book. “This is so trippy… this book is similar to one we have back home, but… also not? Its like- it’s like reading a CliffsNotes version, I guess,” Quentin thought out loud, sparing a glance at Hale. It boggled Quentin’s mind that people lived without magic, although he supposed that before he himself learned that magic was real, it wasn’t all that odd. Perhaps he was too used to magic, and the danger, and everything that came with it.

“Does that mean magic literature over there is more detailed? I’d love to get my hands on some of that sometime,” Hale said, feeling a thirst for extra knowledge.

“I’m sure if we can figure out how this works, we can travel to and fro on a regular basis… if you like,” Quentin said, blushing and perusing once more the book in his lap. _‘Stop flirting with him, Quentin! He’s not Eliot,’_ he thought, making a point to scold himself. He stole another glance in Hale’s direction, who was smiling back at him, almost shyly.

“I’d like that,” Hale replied. He maintained eye contact for another moment, and then cleared his throat and went back to researching.

 _‘There’s no harm in making a cute friend though…’_ Quentin’s brain supplied shortly after, before he found something that caught his eye to read out loud. “’The passage between life and death is where passage between dimensions is easiest, and yet there are many other ways to achieve interdimensional travel.’ Well, I guess that explains how I _got_ here in the first place.”

“I don’t recall getting to that part yet in my reading; does it say exactly how it can be done? Because either I’ve been working on this show too long or my instinct says we should try using mirrors,” Hale suggested.

Quentin’s eyes lit up. “Mirrors could totally work! I mean- yeah, ok, I did die in the Mirror Realm, so if that isn’t proof enough then I don’t know. Buuuut, I’d really rather not have to go via the Mirror Realm back to my own dimension… so if there’s at least a way to communicate directly between here and there, that’ll be perfect,” Quentin said by way of brainstorming out loud. Once he had an idea to work off, he was more determined to find answers.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Hale! We need you on set now!” came a familiar female voice through the door. It sounded like Margo.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” Hale called back, before addressing Quentin once more, “okay, so that was my bestie Summer, she plays Margo, and I gotta step out to film a scene for a little while. I really don’t wanna be the guy who locks you in here, but-”

“It’s ok, you go on ahead; I’ll stay and keep on with research. Thank you so much for this,” Quentin said, getting up to hug Hale and sneaking a kiss on his cheek before he left.

 

When he was at last alone in the trailer, Quentin let out another deep sigh. He was tired, still. And he’d been dead, so he figured he really shouldn’t be. He focused on research, and before long had five different books open and a notepad to scribble into, hoping Julia’s meta-magic rubbed off on him at some point. They might need to invent a spell or two, which could prove tricky. He was the minor mendings guy, not the meta-composition guy, and he was teaming up with a practising Wiccan. When he thought of it like that, this mission sounded impossible. But the one thing driving him to continue on was a hopeful reunion with Eliot. Quentin took notes of bits and pieces that could prove useful for what he was trying to achieve, and he knew for a fact that if it weren’t for the godsend that was Hale, he’d have been uber-screwed. He tried even harder to focus on his research, but his mind continued to wander, and he felt his eyes fall shut. Maybe a nap would be nice…

He imagined all of the possible things he could say to Eliot once they finally reunited. He imagined holding Eliot in his arms once more, and how similar to him Hale felt. He imagined kissing Eliot for the first time in what could possibly classify as a whole century, and wondered if Hale kissed the same way. His dreams also drifted into territory that was less than appropriate, of him in between Eliot and Hale. Some dreams were more about mere comfort though, burying his face in Eliot’s chest and clinging to him tightly while Hale rubbed his back carefully. Somehow, when Hale found him later, Quentin was curled up in the fetal position, arms around himself as he slept. Hale thought it was adorable, and – knowing how Quentin’s storyline went – figured he needed a chance to rest up and get his energy back. So he grabbed his longest coat and used it as a makeshift blanket to cover Quentin with, removing all the books from all around him to continue reading. He also found Quentin’s notes, studying them carefully. He saw that Quentin was onto something; just a few little tweaks were needed here and there, and they’d found their interdimensional communication spell.

Quentin woke with a jolt; perhaps a sweet dream had turned into a nightmare, and he initially felt disoriented. It snapped Hale out of his focus, but he was as good as done anyway, so it wasn’t so bad.

“Mmmmmm…” Quentin groaned, “how long was I out?”

“I couldn’t tell you for sure, but I’ve been looking over your notes for the past… hour and a half,” Hale said, checking the time on his phone for confirmation, “you clearly needed the rest, and I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Ugh, but I was dead, Hale… I shouldn’t still be this tired,” Quentin said in complaint.

“Well by the looks of things, death can apparently really take it outta you,” Hale said, by way of lightening the mood, “and if I remember correctly, that Monster didn’t exactly allow you much time to recharge your batteries, did it?” Hale then approached Quentin, making sure to be gentle with him.

“No, I guess you’re right. I really needed that,” Quentin agreed with a yawn, “so, uhm, what’s the verdict on the communication spell; do we have it?” he asked, slowly and carefully getting up from his lying position.

“Yeah, we have it. You actually got like ninety percent of it down already, so go you,” Hale said with a smile.

“Oh thank goodness,” Quentin breathed out in relief, going straight in for a celebratory hug. He felt so happy he could kiss Hale-

Oh wait.  
He _was_ kissing Hale.  
And Hale was kissing him back.

Quentin melted into it for a moment. Was it really so wrong? He needed this; he was starved for touch and fresh off his own death, but ultimately his conscience won out, and he pulled back a little. “Fuck- I’m so sorry, it’s just- you’re practically identical to him and I just…” he blushed bright red and kept his head down. He hated that he’d put Hale in this position again, “It’s not fair on you, and… I- I should be better at controlling my impulses by now,” he added quietly, the guilt creeping in without him being able to stop it. He needed to get home, and sooner rather than later, before he or Hale got too attached to the other.

Hale stroked a strand of hair out of Quentin’s eyes and rested his hand on the back of Quentin’s neck. “If I may, Q… you’re being way too hard on yourself. Things like this happen, it’s no big deal. You’ve been through quite an ordeal lately, and, well… you miss him,” Hale said, trying to comfort Quentin. He realised Quentin still didn’t know the promise Eliot had made to himself prior to breaking through from the Monster’s possession for that half-minute in that park. Hale took a deep breath and decided that Eliot may never get round to saying it, so he will. He took a seat next to Quentin and put his arm around him before he started,

“Okay so I’m gonna tell you something… you already know I play Eliot in this dimension, and I want the two of you to be a couple as much you both do… so, in case he never tells you himself, you can hear it from me and know it’s the truth,” Hale hesitated for a moment, and took Quentin’s hands in his own and made to face him. He then continued, “Eliot, he… he realises that he was a total idiot for saying no to you in the throne room, once you both regained your memories of your life together at the Mosaic. He regretted the words the moment he’d spoken them. He considers that his worst memory, turning you down. It’s what he had to face to break through to you. He didn’t just say proof of concept to make you believe it was him, he said that to tell you in your own shared code that he loves you. He- Eliot, he loves you so much, it terrifies him, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck up the beautiful bond he shares with you. He never let himself believe that a guy as good and true as you would ever choose him, so he… he never let you. Even the Great Cock of the Darkling Woods referred to the two of you as ‘brothers of the heart’, and ‘parts of one whole’. You’re made for each other. So if he decides to be brave, and ask you to give it a shot with him, just say yes. Basically the entire fandom knows you’re both head over heels in love with each other so fucking go for it,” Hale explained, finally able to get his true feelings on the matter off his chest once and for all. He breathed a sigh of relief, now that it was out, and now the one person who needed it the most was the one to hear it: Quentin.

Quentin had no idea what the hell a fandom was, but hearing those words settled something in his chest. He let out a soft laugh, “he’s such an idiot… how can he not see that he’s… well, he’s everything to me?” he found himself smiling again, wiping his tearful eyes, “as if he’s the only one who was scared of fucking us up… Hell, I never thought he’d ever want me, or choose me, in any lifetime,” he shrugged. “Regardless, I’m gonna get back to him. I have to. There’s no other option, I… I didn’t get the chance to be there for him when he woke up. The very least I can do is be there for him now.” He bit his bottom lip gently, and then made a realisation. “Uh, what time is it? Do you think we have time to try the spell? And where are we gonna do it? There’s no mirror big enough in here…” he looked around, a random wave of excitement hitting him once more.

Hale thought for a moment, his mind going briefly blank. The spell did dictate that they needed a full length mirror…

“I got it! There’s another part of the set where we film the scenes in the Neitherlands Library, we can try that one,” he suggested. Quentin didn’t take long to reach agreement to give it a shot.

“Do you know if that part of the set is occupied right now?” Quentin asked.

“I don’t think so, but it can’t hurt to look just to play safe. Let’s go,” Hale said, getting up and gathering all of their research to tidy it away with Quentin’s help, pocketing the spell they’d stitched together as a team. They’d managed to make their way to the set they’d needed, for the mirror they’d needed and were lucky – and also thankful – that nobody stopped them for idle chit-chat and also that the set was free to use.

“This will never not be weird to me… How is this so… accurate? The only things you guys are missing are the smell of stagnant air, and musty books,” Quentin mused, approaching the mirror. He then turned to Hale, “Hey, did you bring something sharp for the bloodletting part of the spell?” he asked, shifting restlessly. He was nervous, but also excited, but also wrapped in a blanket of anxiety that made him wonder if his friends even _wanted_ him back. He did feel the molasses of magic gurgling under his skin though, so… hopefully this would work. The spell dictated that the one who wished to communicate interdimensionally had to be the one to draw the sigils with their blood.

“Oh yeah, good thing I remembered before we left the trailer… a-ha, here you go,” Hale said, patting his pockets for his trusty pocket knife, which he always kept handy at times for reasons unknown to anybody else beyond that ‘it came in handy sometimes’.

Out of habit, Quentin leaned up and kissed Hale’s cheek, before he froze for a second and blushed. “Um… thanks…” he smiled sheepishly, cutting his thumb so that he could begin to draw the required sigils on the mirror. In this world, it seemed like the blood made magic flow easier; maybe this wouldn’t be so impossible after all… It didn’t take long for the finished blood sigils to take effect; instead of their own reflections, they saw that of Alice Quinn sitting at a desk.

“Oh my god- Alice! Hale! It worked!” Quentin exclaimed, feeling the most joy he’d felt since he and Eliot found their way to Fillory prior to reaching the Mosaic. He pounced on Hale in celebration, and Hale lifted him up off his feet and twirled him around. Alice didn’t notice right away, focused on what she was reading, before she spotted something unusual from her peripheral vision. She looked up and she could barely believe what she saw.

“Quentin?! What the fuck; is that really you?” she asked, getting up and walking closer to the mirror, “Are you from another timeline, or… wait, what’s going on? Is that Eliot?” Alice’s voice broke Quentin and Hale out of their celebration, and they both stood nervously before the mirror.

“Alice, hi! Um… yeah, kind of a long story… I’m, uh- I’m not dead? Anymore?” Quentin said letting out a nervous laugh.

“No shit, Quentin. Twenty-Three and I were both there when you died; we saw it happen. So kindly explain to me how you’re alive but you and Eliot are stuck in a mirror,” Alice said, with an understandable touch of hostility in her voice. This made Quentin nervous; he knew there would be the possibility of his reunion with the others being not entirely positive. He knew people would be mad at him. He looked at Hale, who rubbed his shoulder in consolation, and nodded in encouragement for him to talk.

“OK so- yeah, I died – more like got torn to smithereens but that’s for another day – and I found myself in the Underworld, where I saw Penny, _our_ Penny. He’s in the Secrets Taken to the Grave department now, and so he asked me for mine. He showed me the memorial you guys held for me, and- and- and I realised, I wasn’t ready to move on and leave you all. But I got my MetroCard anyway, and it took me here, which – believe it or not – is an alternate dimension,” Quentin huffed out a hollow laugh, “and in this dimension, our lives are a TV show and there are people here who look and sound exactly like us but they’re actors who play us,” once he was finished, he was laughing uncontrollably.

Alice looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. It took her some time to process this information, and the first thing she said was, “So… that… isn’t Eliot?” finding herself incredibly curious.

“That is correct. My name’s Hale, I play Eliot on the show,” Hale explained with a smile.

“Aah… well, that complicates things,” Alice said, thinking of how to take the next step.

“To be fair, this was merely a communication spell that Hale and I stitched together from his book collection – I didn’t wanna have to go back through the Mirror Realm to get back to you, and I was hoping you could help us take the next step from here,” Quentin chimed in.

“I got it! Only Traveller blood can get people through mirrors into different realms, so that means you need Twenty-Three to get to you and bring you back, right?” Alice asked, curiously, putting two and two together.

Quentin nodded, “Yeah, I uh… I think if we ask him nicely enough, he might be kind enough to create a bridge between here and there and… then I can come home?” he hypothesised.

“Yeah, let’s hope he agrees to it. I’ll go call him. Be right back, Q,” Alice said, placing a hand on the mirror, and Quentin reciprocated the gesture. _‘Shit… she and I still need to talk,’_ he realised.

“So, now we wait?” Hale asked with a calm demeanour, despite feeling nervous for Quentin.

“Yep. Now we wait,” Quentin replied, “I still can’t believe this actually worked – there’s no doubt she’ll have questions about this dimension because for a Physical Kid she has such an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but- maybe I’ll tell her everything. Later… I haven’t even seen all of my friends' actor counterparts except for hearing… Summer? Margo,” he continued.

“Yes, Summer, she does indeed play Margo on the show,” Hale clarified, “And honestly, if I knew you wanted to meet everyone, I’d have let that happen. Only, there would have been question after question about why you’re here so soon, and why you’re in character, and when we’re on a mission – and we _were_ on a mission here – that is the last thing we need,” Hale said, finishing his little ramble.

Quentin nodded in agreement, “I totally get that; I think it's better this way. And you said… Jason…? Wasn’t due back till like next week, right? Do you- do you know what you’re filming yet?” he asked out of curiosity.

“Sadly, no… after the debacle that was the season four finale, the writers don’t seem to trust us anymore,” Hale answered with a hint of resentment in his voice.

“That’s when everybody saw me die, right? Did it… did it really cause _that much_ outrage?” Quentin felt… oddly flattered by the thought of this.

“Ooohhh boy did it; people were pissed, some still are. And a lot of us made it crystal clear to the writers that we were unhappy with how it all played out, so there’s apparently some… stuff, going on behind the scenes, negotiations and such,” Hale explained without telling Quentin too much and overwhelming him with terminology he didn’t understand.

“Jase? What are you doing here, you weren’t supposed to be back yet-” Julia- no, Stella Maeve managed to say as she walked onto the set before Quentin went right in and hugged her tightly, momentarily forgetting the dimension he was in. Stella couldn’t help but laugh, because she’d never received such an enthusiastic-slash-apologetic hug, even from Jason. She was nonetheless incredibly glad to see him though, and said, “I missed you too, man. I wish we could have given you a proper send-off, but the gag order that was over your head-”

“Fuck- yes, I forgot to mention! That’s all part of the debacle surrounding your death, besides the ambiguity bullshit over whether it was a suicide or not, Q. Spoiler alert; it was. They removed all ambiguity from it when they put your likeness on the King of Hearts and put the Suicide Prevention hotline at the end of the episode. Jason – your actor counterpart – wasn’t allowed to talk to anybody about it, not even the rest of us,” Hale confirmed, thus confusing the heck out of Stella, who only then pulled away.

“Huh? _Q?_ Hale… what’s going on?” Stella felt compelled to ask, pulling away from Quentin, her mind thoroughly blown.

“To put it simply my dear, _Quentin_ here got ‘French Mistake’-d, right from the Underworld. You’ve seen that episode of Supernatural, right?” Hale deadpanned. Now it was Quentin’s turn to be confused. Stella’s eyes widened before she raised an eyebrow, and then decided it would be easier to just go with it, because if Hale believed it, so should she.

“So… So does this mean you’re really alive now? How exactly does that work, and… how did you get _here_ , precisely?”

“I, uh- I took the Underworld Metro, and according to Penny-Forty, it takes you where you need to go next, and that, for me, was… here, apparently,” Quentin explained, still struggling to fully comprehend it himself, “So, uh- you’re not _actually_ Julia then, you play her?” he asked by way of keeping everything straight in his head, or as much as he could muster.

“Yeah, I do. My name’s Stella, by the way. And- I feel like I should apologise to you on Julia’s behalf, for being such a shitty friend to you- she had no right to ask _you_ to ground _her_ when she should have been there for you more, so… I’m sorry, Q,” Stella said in earnest, putting a consoling hand on Quentin’s arm.

“Thank you, but- like I said to Alice, I saw that entire memorial everyone held, and- and I saw how broken Jules was. I think- I think a part of that may have been her own guilt, but I daren’t say,” Quentin explained, evading eye contact as though having seen your own funeral was a dirty little secret you weren’t supposed to tell anybody. Hale had been keeping an eye on the mirror, and once he saw Alice and Penny approach, he called to Quentin and Stella, “speak of the devil…” who upon hearing this went straight to join him by the mirror.

Quentin found himself once again feeling nervous at the sight of Penny; hell, seeing anyone he loved again was bound to be tense at first. He felt… how could he even describe how he was feeling? There was so much to say, and it didn’t feel like words would ever be enough, if he were honest with himself. After drawing the necessary sigil with his own blood, Penny stepped through the mirror. Once he’d landed, he saw Stella and his whole face was, the best way Quentin could describe it, a living heart-eyes emoji.

“Woah there, Tiger. You’re focused on the wrong cutie pie. That’s not Julia. You’re here for Q, not any of us,” Hale said, holding Penny back a little and diverting his attention. The moment Penny laid eyes on Quentin though, his face went from heart-eyes to Disney!Hades in a nanosecond.

“Seriously, Coldwater? What the hell kinda dimension have you gone and landed yourself in? I mean- actors? Yeah, Alice told me everything. Trust you to screw up even dying-”

Quentin was having none of this bullshit from Penny, and without saying a word; he punched Penny right in the jaw and pushed him against the nearest wall.

“Fuck you, Penny! You were right there- _you fucking saw me die!_ I went to the Underworld, I got my MetroCard, it fucking sent me here so don’t you fucking _dare_ tell me I fucked up killing myself for all of you!” As Quentin went on his tirade. Hale and Stella moved to hold him back from inflicting even more pain upon the guy who was supposed to be bringing him home. Stella was the one to step in between them while Hale maintained his grip on Quentin’s arms.

“Guys! Guys, please can we calm down? Look, Hale and I know what happened because we acted it out. That’s all done and dusted. So let me get this straight: Penny, you came through that mirror, right?” Penny nodded, still giving evil looks to Quentin, who glared right back at him with equal hostility. "And you have to take Q back to your own dimension that way, right?" Penny nodded again, this time joined by Quentin. Penny huffed out a sigh.

“There’s one thing I don’t get though – if this is a dimension without magic, how the fuck did you get that communication spell to work?” Penny asked Quentin.

“Well, we’re not entirely without magic here; I can still feel it. It’s more sluggish here than in our world, like- it doesn’t flow so easily- but it is there. When I drew the blood sigils on the mirror, then it did flow more freely,” Quentin explained.

“Also, I’m a practising Wiccan. Between the two of us, Q and I managed to pull a Julia and stitch together a spell from my own stash of magic books,” Hale continued, feeling a strong need to defend and protect Quentin however he could.

“Wow… Man, that’s some jerry rigged shit, but… good job, I guess,” Penny answered, rubbing his jaw, “Damn Coldwater, I didn’t think you had such a mean right hook on you... fuck. I’m impressed.”

“Well, that’s what happens when a clinically depressed, formerly suicidal nerd gets angry,” Quentin deadpanned. Penny nodded, understanding that… yeah, he did kinda deserve it. Once Stella could see that these best frenemies had indeed chilled their beans, she felt safe to step away, nodding to Hale to loosen his grip on Quentin’s arms.

“Alright… so um, say your goodbyes and let’s go?” Penny suggested.

Quentin paused, looking back to Hale. “Hey, um… thank you,” he smiled a little. He kinda felt like crying, even though he’d barely known Hale a day. He leaned in, kissing Hale on the lips just slightly, hugging Hale again tightly, before he stepped back and took Penny’s hand. “Take care of each other,” Quentin suggested with a smile, “including, uh, Jason… regardless of what happens on this end.”

“We will, Q. We promise,” Stella said, quickly hugging Quentin before wrapping an arm around Hale who himself was struggling to keep his emotions in check as he saw Penny practically drag Quentin through the mirror. Stella knew how much Hale shipped Quentin and Eliot together, so she hoped for his sake that they finally got their shit together and became a couple for realsies. Hale hoped that he and Jason could one day explore the dynamic between Quentin and Eliot in a romantic context. He expected not to, but there would always be a hope. Once the two actors saw that Quentin was through and safe and back in his own dimension, another tearful wave was exchanged between him and Hale, and Hale then reluctantly broke the blood sigil on the mirror.

“Look on the bright side; we get the real Jason back next week,” Stella said, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah… how the fuck am I gonna look him in the eye now, knowing all of this?” Hale wondered out loud.

 

Quentin was immediately met with a hug from Alice. They briefly talked about where they stood with one another, Quentin apologized again for dying on them, which was met with a dismissal and an admission from both Alice and Penny that they were just happy to see him back, alive and well. Once the air had calmed between them all, Penny travelled them all to the Physical Kids Cottage over at Brakebills.

When they stepped inside, Quentin found himself frozen in place. This was where it got real… this was where he had to own up to what he did, and try to make things right. He took a few deep breaths, _‘1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1’_ he counted in his head, attempting to psych himself up before he continued farther inward. He looked around, wondering who was about at the moment. Would Eliot be in his old room? Quentin could almost feel another panic attack approaching; he’d been through so much, seen so much, found out _so goddamn much_ in the past 24 hours that only now, on familiar territory, was it all really just beginning to sink in. Hale had more or less told him what Penny40 wouldn’t; that he did finally find a way to kill himself, but he did it by doing something brave to save his friends. He knew this now. He knew the impact his death had had not only on his friends but on millions of people in a whole other dimension. He knew now where he stood with Eliot, and he wanted more than anything to act upon that. He saw things in a new light now; perhaps that’s what the Underworld had wanted. Perhaps it wanted Quentin to see beyond the world he knew. Perhaps he could take this experience and use it to make him a better version of himself than he was before. His train of thought – which was oddly calming – was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. He hasn’t realised that he’d been stuck in place, lost in thought for god knows how long. When he looked up, it was just in time for Margo to realise that her fairy eye wasn’t showing her his ghost.

“Holy shit, Coldwater! How did you get here? Actually scratch that, come to Mama!” she exclaimed, hugging him tightly, and all he could do was hug her back, breathing in the comfort of the hug and the familiarity of her frame.

“H-How’s El?” he asked hesitantly, pulling away slightly and bracing himself for a big lecture, or at the very least a stern talking to.

“Oh honey, he hasn’t been okay at all. Look, to tell you the truth… since you died, we’ve all been looking for ways to get you back here with us. Eliot tried going to the Underworld to see if you were still down there, and Penny40 told us you’d already moved on…” Margo began, feeling emotional but choked it down, “and once he was told that, he… he’d given up all hope.”

Quentin’s heart broke for Eliot. He knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel exactly the same way. He pulled Margo in for another hug and said, “Well technically, he wasn’t lying. I did get my MetroCard after he showed me your memorial, and I did move on from the Underworld… only I was sent to an alternate dimension. I had… help, in getting back. In part I also have Alice and Twenty-Three to thank for that,” Quentin said, wanting to give more details.

“Well, if alternate timelines can exist, why the hell can’t alternate dimensions, huh?” Margo quipped, pulling away from the hug to look Quentin in the eyes once more, really taking him in. She realised at that moment just how much she’d really missed him.

“That’s what I said! It was _insane_ , Margo- our lives are a fucking TV show over there, and I was mistaken for a guy called Jason?” Quentin said, and began excitedly rambling about the other dimension because whether he liked to admit it or not, it was pretty fucking cool there. He’d also made a promise to Hale, one he very much intended to keep. Margo was amazed to see Quentin talking so excitedly, so rather than interrupting him; she just listened and engaged as best she could. However, she did steer Quentin upstairs a bit, wanting to make sure he and Eliot got some time together before anyone else found out he was alive and well. Screw Julia, Eliot needed him more.

“Listen to me, Coldwater. You didn’t have to get yourself killed and travel to another dimension to find out how Eliot feels about you. He’s in there, tread carefully,” Margo warned in kind, pointing her head towards the door they’d reached and stopped at. She put a hand on Quentin’s cheek and said softly, “for what it’s worth, Q, for the short time we saw each other between my banishment from Fillory and your death, I really should have seen how not okay you were. So I just wanna say I’m sorry that none of us were there for you in your darkest hour. We all made a promise that if we got you back, we’d take better care of you and never take you for granted again. And, well… _we_ may have failed to get you back, but that’s because you managed to save yourself… you brave fool,” and she planted a nurturing kiss on his forehead before leaving him to get some alone time with the love of his life.

_Fuck._   
_He was terrified._

He took another deep breath, and knocked on the door. He waited for a few seconds.

“Come in,” came the muffled voice. The voice that made Quentin’s heart skip a beat. Eliot. The _real_ Eliot. Not the Monster, not Hale. Eliot. He choked back a sob and turned the doorknob to enter. He was hesitant, but he powered through, and he leaned back against the door, closing it that way. He stared at Eliot for a little while, just watching him retreat into himself, deep in thought. _‘You’re so beautiful- I’ve missed you so much- I’m so sorry-‘_ and a whole other slew of thoughts entered Quentin’s brain, and he fought tears to the point where it physically hurt to do so. One more deep breath, and the one thing he managed to get out of his mouth was the name, “Eliot…”

Eliot jumped at the familiar voice calling his name. It can’t be…? He moved on, how is he here? His head turned to see if it really was who he desperately hoped beyond hope it was, and upon seeing the face of the man he was head over heels in love with, his heart burst with joy.

“Q…? It’s really you? How? Am I… am I hallucinating?” Eliot said, looking down, terrified it was just a mirage.

“If you were, how would asking me help?” Quentin said with a smile, unable to resist the opportunity for a throwback to their first meeting. Eliot looked back up at him and let out a wet laugh. He didn’t care about anything else; his one true love was here and alive and he needed him in his arms _now._ They each made a beeline for the other and took each other into the tightest hug they could muster. Eliot pulled away just enough to say something.

“Q- I’m so sorry- I was an idiot-” Eliot began, wanting to be brave, like he’d promised.

“Ssshhhh sweetheart; you don’t have to tell me, I already know,” Quentin whispered, putting a finger on Eliot’s lips. Eliot took that hand into his own and kissed it softly. Quentin’s breath hitched and he put his other hand on the back of Eliot’s neck in order to pull him in for a hungry kiss, and his heart, mind, body and soul all cheered, like _‘finally’._

Finally.

Eliot rested his hands on Quentin’s waist – with Quentin in turn keeping one hand on Eliot’s neck and the other on his shoulder – as they kissed more deeply, hungrily, passionately, with a fire that was threatening to scorch them from the inside out.

 

*****

 

“Aaaaaaaand CUT!”

Jason heard the director call cut, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He looked up at Hale, smiling a little shyly, but also like Hale was a revelation that he was only just now beginning to understand.

“Hey… is everything okay?” he asked Hale quietly, looking up at him adoringly. Since he got back, he noticed Hale looking at him differently, and yet… he wasn’t upset by that. If he was honest, it was pushing him to confront something he’d been ignoring for quite some time.

“Yeah, I’m ok, it’s just… déjà vu, I guess. And, um… I missed you,” Hale said softly, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole but also very much wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Literally the only thing stopping him from taking the plunge was the fact that Jason had a wife. Jason smiled at him, and placed a hand on Hale’s cheek to stroke it with his thumb, then pressed their foreheads together.

“I missed you too, Hale. I love you,” he whispered, now blatantly not making a single amount of effort to pull away. They were in the moment. Screw everybody else. Although, what worked to their advantage was that everybody else was assuming they were still in character so not a damn soul batted an eyelid at their casual public intimacy.

“I love you too, Jase,” Hale admitted quietly, unsure if the man truly understood just how much he meant it, “this… it hasn’t been the same without you and I- I’m really glad you’re back,” he said, curling his fingers in the back of Jason’s hair. Maybe one day he’d take a page out of Eliot’s book and be braver, brave enough to tell Jason how he was really feeling. For now though, this was enough. Quentin was home where he belonged with Eliot, Jason was back on set, and nothing else mattered.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous smut ahoy!

Quentin and Eliot were snuggled in bed together one evening; Eliot’s stomach wound had healed sufficiently enough for him to get more heated and intimate with Quentin. Quentin, of course, had been patient; he’d been taking care of Eliot the way he knew he should have been once Eliot got his body back from the Monster. Eliot, though? Not so. He loved Quentin so much, and he desperately wanted – no, _needed_ – to show it. He didn’t ever want to take Quentin’s love for granted, and he felt like that was what he was doing. Quentin was insistent that Eliot take his time with healing; the fun stuff would come later. And now, they were at the point in Eliot’s healing where the fun stuff could at last happen with minimal repercussions. Their snuggles had turned into sweet kisses, until their kisses had gone from sweet to steamy. Quentin suddenly remembered his brief time in the alternate dimension-

“El I have a confession to make,” he blurted out quickly, remaining close to Eliot, like his touch was the most addictive drug in the multiverse.

Eliot raised an eyebrow, “hmm… okay, does this confession have to do with some guy you blew in college? Because if so, it can wait until after I make you moan _a lot,_ ” Eliot said, grinning with his usual flirtatious charm, kissing Quentin’s neck and stroking his fingers through Quentin’s hair. He was so glad Quentin was growing it out again; whoever thought Brian should have short hair was an idiot.

Quentin chuckled and blushed at that comment. “Aah, no… it’s um. It’s far more recent than that. I told you I landed in an alternate dimension, right? And that in this alternate dimension, our lives are a TV show and that there are people there who look and sound exactly like us but aren’t?” Eliot nodded; he found the concept rather fascinating if he were honest with himself. Quentin continued, “Well, the first actor I found was- well, it was you, kinda- actually his name is Hale, but when I first saw him I thought he was you, because he was dressed like you and- I may have- uhm. Kissed him? More than once?” he explained, feeling a strong pang of guilt, and holding his head down. Eliot felt like he _should_ be mad, but… he really wasn’t. He tilted Quentin’s head up gently by the chin.

“To be fair to you, Q… if I were in your situation and I saw your actor counterpart-”

“Jason…” Quentin muttered out, suddenly remembering the name just like that, but still trying to evade eye contact to little avail.

“Yeah, if I saw… Jason… I’d have thought it were you and done exactly the same thing. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, babe,” Eliot said, then kissing Quentin’s forehead. “And honestly? I can’t blame you for kissing him in any other context either. I mean… we didn’t exactly get a chance to talk through our issues, did we? So I can understand the need to seek something… familiar,” he added, “even on a superficial level.” He stroked his fingers along Quentin’s back and side, “regardless, I love you, and yeah- okay- I’ll admit that if my dimension twin had gotten a piece of you biblically, I may have been annoyed, but kissing… well, chances are I’m better at that than he is anyway,” Eliot grinned, trying to ease Quentin’s mind.

Eliot’s efforts had worked, and Quentin was visibly relieved. So much so that he’d almost pounced on Eliot and peppered his face with short sweet kisses which said _‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’_ and then planted a more passionate kiss on Eliot’s lips. He made to get on top of Eliot and hold his hands in place on either side of his head, interlacing their fingers as he gradually added more heat to their shared kisses.

As they kissed, a funny thought crossed Eliot’s mind, and he giggled a little. This made Quentin giggle a little too, but it got him curious.

“What’s so funny?” Quentin asked between kisses.

“I was just wondering whether in that other dimension you went to, us doing this would be part of some gratuitous sex scene for fans of us?” Eliot asked with a cheeky grin, his hands free to grope Quentin’s ass. Quentin gasped at the feeling of Eliot’s hands on his ass and he couldn’t help but to giggle a little more.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t think it – I _know_ it. At least, based on what Hale told me. Apparently a _lot of people_ want us to get our shit together and become an item, I think even Hale himself does, so…” Quentin trailed off, and he felt suddenly in the mood to put on a show for an invisible audience. He leant down to kiss Eliot once more, with extra desperation and he wasted no time in grinding against Eliot. Eliot was more than enthusiastic to let Quentin take the lead; he'd loved and missed Quentin more than words could do justice. 

“Mm- El- I need you,” Quentin moaned against Eliot’s bare skin as he kissed his chest, going further down so he could eventually take Eliot’s cock into his mouth. He first took his time teasing Eliot’s cock by kissing up the shaft, and then he went all-in. Eliot arched up, engrossed in the feeling of Quentin’s mouth practically swallowing him whole. Quentin bobbed his head up and down, and moaned when he felt Eliot grab his hair.

“Q… baby, _fuck,_ ” Eliot groaned. This wasn’t an entirely new sensation for him, since they _had_ technically done this before; at the Mosaic… but their bodies were both a bit new to this still. “Your mouth… it’s _incredible,_ ” he breathed, his fingers stroking through Quentin’s hair as he watched him reverently. How did he ever take this for granted?

Quentin was having the time of his life sucking Eliot’s cock. He was relying on muscle memory from their life together at the Mosaic to remember just what Eliot liked, how he liked it, and it came more naturally to him than any sexual encounter with a woman ever had. He didn’t want to make Eliot cum just yet; he wanted to ride that dick like there was no tomorrow. So, he pulled away from Eliot’s still throbbing, now leaking cock, earning him a whine in protest from Eliot. Quentin performed the tuts Eliot had taught him a lifetime ago, so they were both slick and ready to go.

 

“Mm, Q… have I mentioned today, that I love how resourceful you are? And you’re such a quick study, I don’t’ even think I taught the tut that well, but damn… you’re better at it than me,” Eliot purred fondly, playing right into Quentin’s praise kink as he kissed him, loving the feeling of him straddling his lap. It didn’t take long before Quentin was sinking down on his cock, too focused on what he wanted to respond with anything more than a wicked grin and a kiss on Eliot’s lips. He was ready to ride Eliot like a damn pro, and maybe imagined being watched by a certain somebody. He let out a porn-star-grade moan, getting drunk on the feeling of Eliot’s cock filling him right up. He realised just how much he’d missed this, and he was hungry for more. He developed a nice steady rhythm, determined to drive Eliot as close to ecstasy as he was. Eliot didn’t have much choice beyond riding the wave of exquisite pleasure that Quentin was sending him on.

“Fuck, Q… I, _god I love you,_ ” he whispered, so far gone that he couldn’t even think past the love and desire he was feeling. He let his hands rest on Quentin’s hips, rocking up into him, letting out desperate moans of his own, while he watched the man he loved with desperate hunger. How could he have ever let this go? He swore to himself that he’d never make the same mistake again.

 

“I love you too Eliot- _fuck_ , I love you so much-” Quentin panted against Eliot’s lips, and feeling a little frustrated that his climax couldn’t come fast enough, but also never wanting this to stop. He wanted to get Eliot on top of him and get thoroughly pounded, but he also wanted to keep it relatively sweet and romantic. “Harder, El- I need you- fuck me harder- please-”

 

Eliot smiled at that, flipping Quentin over and thrusting into him with a harder, yet no less passionate pace. He kissed Quentin again, swallowing all of his moans and rocking back and forth against him.

“Got you baby… always got you, Q,” he promised quietly, gripping Quentin’s hips and holding onto him for dear life. He’d lost Quentin once, he refused to lose him again.

Quentin couldn’t stand it whenever there was any space between him and Eliot; he needed Eliot’s sweat-slick skin against his own. He needed to feel Eliot balls deep inside him, bringing him to Cloud Nine over and over again. He needed all of it and he needed it now. He held Eliot as closely as he could; he’d lost Eliot far too many times in all of his lifetimes to ever take him for granted. He was going to cherish Eliot for the rest of his life.

“El- I’m close- need you to-” and he just guided Eliot’s hand towards his cock and motioned for him to stroke it hard and fast until he came. It admittedly didn’t take long for either of them to climax, holding each other tight and close as they rode out their mutual orgasm.

 

 

In the aftermath, Eliot kissed Quentin tenderly.

“Mm, you’re perfect,” he whispered quietly, brushing his lips against Quentin’s again, “and… I’m never taking this for granted again. I’m yours, from here on out. In this lifetime, and any other,” he promised, kissing Quentin again and again, holding Quentin in his arms and practically moving to hide them from the world with a well-placed blanket. 

Quentin felt like he was in heaven. He couldn’t be more thankful to have been given this second chance at life, thankful that the Underworld had seen into his heart and granted his unspoken petition. He was not going to waste any more opportunities. He felt so safe, so secure, so comfortable in Eliot’s arms, that before he could stop himself, he blurted out his one true desire, which was, “I wanna marry you, Eliot.” He then looked into Eliot’s eyes with more determination and resolve, and zero anxiety over what he’d just said. He continued, “I want to spend the rest of my new life with you. Who gets second chances like this? We already have proof of concept.”

Eliot felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. Quentin was right. Life was way too short to be afraid of taking a leap of faith. “I just have one condition, Q – you let me take your last name. You’re the only family I need, sweetheart,” he said, planting a soft sweet kiss onto Quentin’s lips, who returned it with equal love.

**Author's Note:**

> Be nice to me?


End file.
